


My Little World

by claquesous



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Cuddling, Fluff, M/M, Making Out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-06
Updated: 2014-08-06
Packaged: 2018-02-12 00:40:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2089173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/claquesous/pseuds/claquesous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"If they could measure your heart, punk, you’d be Captain Rogers in five seconds flat."</p><p>Steve is deemed unfit for the army for the first of many times.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Little World

The first time he was sent out of the recruiter tent emptyhanded, Bucky was by his side—having already passed the examination that Steve didn’t even finish. But the fact remained that Bucky had and would always be beside Steve for the best and worst of his life. They walked together, both quiet. Finally Bucky said, “It’s nothing you did or didn’t do.” He laid a hesitant hand on Steve's shoulder, and when it wasn’t shrugged off, he curled his arm around Steve's neck and pulled him closer. "If they could measure your heart, punk, you’d be Captain Rogers in five seconds flat," he said softly, voice right in Steves' hear, an overwhelming, calm sound that blocked out almost everything else, but not Steve's swirling thoughts. Could he try again? Was there a way to grow five inches and a hundred pounds in the next five months? If he ate a lot more, if he did more pushups every morning?

Bucky shook him a little, shooing off the bad thoughts the best way he knew how. "Let's head home, Steve. I'll make us some dessert if you want."

Steve slumped under his arm. "Okay, Buck." He sounded utterly defeated.

Bucky let go of him. "Come on, don't sulk." His sharp gaze settled on Steve's bowed head. "Shooting guns isn't the only way to fight this war, Steve. There’s no one right way to be patriotic.”

Steve sighed. "Just leave it alone, Bucky. I'm bummed out, alright? I appreciate the effort, but you're not going to cheer me up."

Bucky's grin spread from one side of his mouth to the other, but he said nothing. He matched Steve's agitated gait all the way back to their apartment and followed him up the stairs. When Steve hunched over to unlock the door, Bucky sidled up behind him, one hand light on his waist.

“Bucky..." Steve started, but his tone was not warning, just a raw acknowledgment of his presence. He opened the door and Bucky swept him inside, pushing the door shut behind him with his back. He trapped himself between Steve and the door, one hand on his shoulder. He looked down into Steve's deep-socketed eyes and saw him relax. Steve leaned into Bucky  heavily, pressing his face into Bucky's shoulders. Bucky pressed his scrawny body against his own and felt the searing relief of human contact filling Steve up like a deep breath.

"I love you, Steve," Bucky said. It had never been a big deal between them. Bucky never said it to any of his girls, and Steve seldom even got the opportunity, but never did either. It was something they shared, and it transcended the normal rules of the L word. They were both grateful that they had this unconventional land of familiarity behind their door and under their sheets.

Bucky squeezed Steve once and pressed his lips to Steve's hair, then his ear, then his chin. He kissed his way down Steve's face, tilting Steve's chin up. Steve let himself be kissed everywhere but his lips. Bucky flipped their position and pressed Steve against the door, and felt his sigh of relief across his lips.

He kissed Steve very carefully. Their first kiss of the night was always perfectly careful, an exchange of moods and temperatures and needs. Steve let his mouth open against Bucky's immediately: Take me, love me. Bucky licked along his lips and tasted Steve's tongue gently: I will take care of you, my little world.

Steve melted against the door immediately, moaning loudly. Bucky smiled, and they parted, lifted out of that moment into another, lighter and happy.

"Thanks," Steve said, smiling, then looking at the floor. Bucky knelt down into Steve's field of vision, hugging his legs, looking up at Steve with a question: "What do you need, Steve?"

Steve always seemed profoundly moved by this gesture. Bucky would never forget the first time he knelt at Steve's feet just to meet his eyes. Steve had looked down at him with the best kind of shock and Bucky had stopped breathing. It made Steve feel listened to, and it made Bucky feel like he deserved Steve, at his feet like an adoring puppy. In spirit, that's close to what they were. Steve was a noble lion trapped in a lamb's body, and Bucky was the loyal dog that would watch over him in one form and follow him in the other.

Steve buried his hands in Bucky's hair, tousling it, and subconsciously tugging at it. Bucky leaned into his fingers and let out a low, burning growl of pleasure.

Steve, startled out of admiration, let go of Bucky's hair and pulled him up by the arms. "Let's get in bed first." Also: I don't know what I want yet. Bucky kissed him adoringly one more time and went into the bedroom.

Steve stood there a moment, trying to reclaim some of the blood for his brain that his cock had reappropriated. He still couldn't decide whether those worshipful moments made him uncomfortable. Or rather, whether they should make him uncomfortable. He loved them so much. He buried his face in his hands a moment, overwhelmed by the goodness of the man who loved him and protected him like a lover and a brother.

Bucky was in his shirtsleeves on the bed, shoes on the floor and tie slung over the nightstand. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting. Steve stood before him and Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve's tiny waist, pulling him close. Bucky kissed and bit and licked at his neck, his collarbone, his trapezius, and Steve threw back his head and clung to Bucky's shoulders.

"What did I do to deserve you?" he managed breathlessly.

Bucky leaned back, eyebrows raised and that goddamn smirk pulling at his lips. "You made it out of your mother's womb alive. What the hell did I do to deserve _you_?"

Steve blushed deeply, more deeply than he had at any of the kisses.

"You're so pretty when you blush," Bucky whispered, pressing his nose into Steve's sternum. His hands were wandering tentatively south, but stopped before they got anywhere too scandalous.

Steve stepped back. "Buck, can we just sleep?" he asked gingerly. He knew they were already well past aroused, but he needed warmth and comfort and rest.

"Of course," Bucky murmured, moving his hands back up to Steve’s back and fisting his loose shirt. He looked up, eyes heavy-lidded. "Can I blow you?"

Steve shook his head. Bucky narrowed his eyes. "Is it because you don't want to return the favor?"

Steve frowned guiltily.

"I like giving you orgasms, you know."

Steve ducked his head. "I know,” he blushed furiously, “I just—it makes me uncomfortable. It's not worth it."

Bucky shrugged. "Alright, punk. We'll die of blueballs together."

Steve blushed, and Bucky smacked him in the side. "I'm kidding, you little shit. Take your damn clothes off."

Steve smiled. He relaxed so discernibly that Bucky regretted arguing. Even if his egalitarian issues were baseless, and they both knew it, arguing wasn't worth it. Steve stripped off his pants and his shirt and curled up next to Bucky, after he'd rid himself of his clothes too.

Bucky enveloped Steve from behind, wrapping both arms snugly around him and burying his face in Steve's shoulder. Steve squirmed happily and turned around. They rearranged themselves, stacking their knees between them so they could be as close as possible to each other. Bucky pressed his lips to Steve's carefully: I will take care of you. Steve nipped his lip and kissed him again. I know you will.


End file.
